Enough with the race stuff, back to being just a MOM

Two things that don’t mix:  Potty training the boy and My little girl being sick

I’m a bit embarrassed to write that my 3 year-old son is not quite potty trained.  I didn’t think much of it until I moved here to California.  It seems here that the children come out of the womb potty trained.  I mean, the kids are like 12 months old at the park walking to the bathroom by themselves.  They can’t even talk, but their going to the potty.  Of course when I saw this, I made a point to hide my son’s diaper whenever we would go places and then got on the ball with potty training.  His late induction into the potty training game is not totally my fault.  It is delayed for a couple of reasons.  One reason is that I tried a little before he turned 2, but was so traumatized after he picked up his boo boo from the pot and threw it across the room that I had to stop for a bit.  Another reason is because we moved here to California and my husband thought it would unwise for us to potty train him when we were going to spend such long days on the road.  Did I mention we drove from NC to CA in separate cars? It took us 6 days to get here and I think he was right in delaying the potty training. Fast forward to today and now I’ve (not us) got a kid speaking in complete sentences who can’t use the potty.

The first week was HORRIBLE!  He simply didn’t get it and honestly I don’t know what to tell him about his equipment. I’m not a boy and my husband is away.  I didn’t know if he should sit down or stand.  I didn’t know how to explain to him to just let it go.  It was a mess.  He kept peeing on the floor and I thought maybe my whole Zen vibe I was giving him was not enough for him to get the picture, so I started being more firm, like the Russian chick at the park told me.  Yes, I took advice from some random lady at the park, but her son was potty trained.  She told me to get these training pants (not underwear) from the Walmart and follow them up with the old school diaper liners, so like cloth diapers, but training pants. She also told me that when her son had an accident, she just let him sit in his stuff for a while and then he finally got the picture.  Well, the only good advice I got from the Russian lady was the cloth training pants because EVERYTHING else backfired. He didn’t care that he was sitting in his own “stuff”, he just kept right on playing.  He could have cared less about the potty, so finally I woke up one day and made up a character called Mr. Potty.  I can’t believe my life has come to this.  Mr. Potty has a distinct voice and he loves it when you give him something.  There are days I can’t believe this is my life.  Anyway, Mr. Potty was a hit and we have gone 3 whole days without an accident even when we leave the house.  Those cloth training pants were the best thing ever because now he feels when he’s had a bit of an accident and runs to see Mr. Potty.

So life is good, my son is finally going to the potty and now I can be a cool Mom on the playground. Of course, as Murphy’s Law would have it, just as we get the potty training on the road, my daughter gets sick. GREAT! Potty training and the cold just don’t mix.  My daughter is a diva and my potty voice is just another way I’m giving her brother more attention than her, so she has requested that I make her a sick voice.  I can’t with these two.  I offered to cuddle with her on the couch and even came up with the grand idea to make her chicken soup. Of course, she reminded me that her father makes chicken soup better and while at the store buying the things for the chicken soup, she informed me that she must have potatoes in her soup like her Dad makes it.  I really wanted to tell this child that her daddy wasn’t here, but I bought the potato anyway.  I was so proud of myself.  I’m even going to insert a pic.

photo 1 photo 2

So, the kids ate my soup, but they did not eat it without reminding me that their father makes soup better.  I almost want to scream sometimes, but I love that they love him and that’s the only positive thing I have to write about that.

I guess it didn’t dawn on me that the broth from the soup would have my son on and off the potty the rest of the night.  I usually cut him off around 6 p.m. for this reason. Does anyone else have a son who literally seems to be in deep thought every time they go to use the potty? There is a whole process to him using the potty. Meanwhile, my daughter needs a cuddle and my son is yelling for Mr. Potty to come look at what he’s done.  Oh my, what a night.  I cannot wait until my husband gets home.  By the way, he called in the midst of the madness and quickly got off the phone, but he did send a text about 30 seconds later saying, “I love you!”.  He better!


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